For months the past kept showing up uninvited. Mind games. Hypervigilance. Plans I changed out of dread. I almost let it work. But recently something crystallized, I finally saw clearly what I was dealing with, and something in my nervous system just released. This is what seeing the light actually looks like. Not a dramatic…
I woke up anxious and didn’t run. I faced anxiety and didn’t spiral. Thirty-seven days sober in the hardest season of my life, I chose movement over meltdown and discipline over drama. This dance isn’t performance. It’s proof. Identity death cracked me open, and what came back is steadier, sharper, and done selling out.
A full-length exposure-therapy photowalk down Cornwall Ave with a 40mm lens and no agenda.
A 12.8-mile photo walk through Bellingham became more than a color study in orange, it became a marker of recovery. Long-distance walking helps regulate my nervous system and acts as somatic exposure therapy, keeping me engaged with the world instead of retreating from it. Thirty days ago I threw away my cannabis, and I’m about…